


Stay Quiet, Stay Near

by thestarsabove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 14:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1230250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsabove/pseuds/thestarsabove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's the perfect kind of night for manhunt."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Summer love fic inspired by Dashboard Confessional's "Hands Down" and Grouplove's "Tongue Tied", featuring several dark, cramped spaces, copious amounts of fluff, and a dash of OT5 bonding, because I couldn't resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Quiet, Stay Near

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been work on this story for SO LONG and now it's finally done and I actually can't believe it. It's my baby so I'm kind of terrified to be posting it publicly but also really excited because I'm pretty pleased with how it's turned out. This is also my first time posting fic on AO3 so I'm very nervous and happy to be here.
> 
> Title comes from the song "Hands Down" by Dashboard Confessional.

 

**"Eventually soulmates meet, for they have the same hiding place." ~ Robert Brault**

 

  
"FREEEEEDOOOOOM!!!!" Niall shouts, barreling down the hallway and high-fiving everyone he sees - including a number of frightened-looking younger students. He comes to an abrupt halt in front of Harry and Zayn, who are standing in front of Harry's locker pretending they don't know him.

"Happy last day of school, lads!" Niall says cheerfully, slinging an arm around each of them.

"Same to you, mate," Harry replies, pulling some scraps of paper and a rogue pencil out of his locker and dumping them in a nearby bin. He does a last scan of the now empty space before slamming the door shut with a satisfying clang. "Feels good to be done."

"Does indeed, does indeed," Niall nods. "You two ready for tonight?"

"What's tonight?" Zayn asks curiously, his face completely serious. Harry has to hold back a laugh when he sees the horrified expression on Niall's face.

"Zayn! We've been talking about this for weeks - " he stops when he sees the grin spreading across Zayn's face. "Not funny, you tosser."

"Don't worry, Nialler, we're ready for manhunt," Harry says consolingly.

"Better be," Niall grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

Every year on the first night of summer, the students in their school gather to play the first match in an epic manhunt tournament. Splitting into teams of five, they pair off and compete against each other in various parts of town. The winners advance to the next round, and so on, until a week later one team is declared the ultimate manhunt champions of the summer. The prize is a generous gift card to the local ice cream parlor and, of course, eternal glory.

"Eternal glory," says Niall, who helped to organize the entire event and is taking his role as their team captain immensely seriously. "That's what's at stake here." Harry and Zayn nod solemnly, not daring to look over at each other even when Niall turns around. "Oi, there's Louis and Liam. Impromptu team meeting, c'mon lads!"

And suddenly, Harry and Zayn are avoiding eye contact for a very different reason.

A little ways down the hall, the aforementioned Louis and Liam are standing together, examining Louis's Physics notebook.

"I'm going to rip out every bloody page, one by one, and burn them," Louis says menacingly, eyeing the notebook with a slightly manic glint in his eye.

"You know, some of it might come in handy next y-" Liam begins thoughtfully.

Louis closes his eyes, raising a hand in protest. "Now is not the time, Liam."

"Right. Sorry," Liam says, nodding. "I'll bring the matches."

"There's a good lad. I knew I trained you well."

"Heads up," Liam says abruptly, his cheeks suddenly pinker than they were a few seconds ago.

"Wh - "

"Team!" Niall cries, appearing at Louis's side and clapping a hand on his shoulder. He has Harry and Zayn in tow (no surprise there, as the three of them are inseparable), which explains why Liam is suddenly all fidgety. He won't admit it, of course, but Louis suspects Liam's had a bit of a crush on Zayn for a while now.

"Captain," Louis greets, bowing his head deferentially. When he looks up, Harry is watching him with a sort of half-smile on his face, like he can't quite tell if Louis is being sarcastic or not. Louis tosses him a wink for good measure, and Harry's grin widens, his dimples getting deeper. Something warm shifts in Louis's stomach at the sight.

"There's the attitude I'm looking for!" Niall says happily, blissfully oblivious to Louis's gentle mocking - or perhaps just choosing to ignore it. Louis doesn't know him well enough to be able to tell for sure. He and Liam had adopted Niall as their third lab partner in Physics (fucking Physics) this past year, mostly because he was blonde and smiley and reminded them of a leprechaun. They haven't spent much time together outside of school, though. "Ready to kill it tonight, boys?"

"Absolutely," Louis replies, speaking for both himself and his best friend, who is currently preoccupied with looking everywhere but at Zayn.

"Brilliant," Niall grins. "Meet at Zayn's at 7:30 sharp, then?"

Zayn's house, located just outside the designated boundaries of their manhunt match, has been chosen as team headquarters. Naturally, Louis has been making casual comments about Zayn's bedroom all week just to see how easily he can make Liam blush.

Louis nods. "Game on."

 

\--

It's the very best kind of summer night - warm without being sticky, a gentle breeze drifting through the air. With just the light of the moon, luminous in a star-freckled sky, it's dark enough to keep secrets safe but not to fear being swallowed whole by the night. The distinct smell of summer, indescribable and yet intimately familiar, lingers in the air. It's that old summer magic - that feeling of inifinte possibility, like anything can happen when endless sun-drunk days and electric nights stretch ahead of you.

It's also the perfect kind of night for manhunt.

Louis darts out from where he had been lurking behind a large tree and sprints across a stretch of silvery lawn. Niall's instructions echo in his head ("stay hidden, avoid open, well-lit spaces, don't get bloody caught"), and he thinks to himself that running out into a completely exposed yard simply for the thrill of it probably doesn't comply. But then, hiding in one place all night would be _such_  a bore, and Louis's never been much good at following instructions anyway (hey, it's part of his charm). After ten months of failed Physics experiments, Niall of all people should know that. 

He's made it about halfway across the lawn when a concealed dip in the ground catches his foot and sends him sprawling face-first into the grass. He feels his ankle twist in a way that is _definitely_ not natural, and the pain hits him a few seconds later.

"Fuck," he hisses. "Fuck, fuck."

Louis drags himself into an upright position and examines his ankle, wincing. He doesn't think it's anything worse than a sprain - he's done this more than once playing football - but he definitely won't be doing any more running tonight. Which poses a bit of a dilemma given that he's halfway through a highly competitive game of manhunt. Leaving the match to ice the injury would mean forfeiting, which is clearly out of the question. Louis Tomlinson does not forfeit, especially over a silly little thing like a sprained ankle. There's also the matter of Niall, and Niall's certain devastation were they to get knocked out of the tournament this early on. Louis does not want to be the one responsible for making Niall look like a kicked puppy. That being said, he can't exactly stay out here in the open, easy prey for any passing member of the opposing team. He'll have to hide somewhere and wait it out.

From his position on the ground, he spies a gap amongst some large bushes a few yards away. He doesn't think he even would have noticed it standing up, which certainly bodes well for it's suitability as a hiding place. Gritting his teeth, Louis shifts to all fours and crawls as quickly as he can towards the opening, cursing his injured ankle. He slips between the branches and finds himself in a surprisingly large clearing - he guesses it could fit himself and another person comfortably. It's almost like a mini-thicket, enclosed on all sides but open in the center. Leafy branches hang overhead, offering additional coverage, although Louis can still make out strips of the starry sky above. He arranges himself on the cool earth, ankle stretched out delicately in front of him, and settles in to wait.

\--

Half a block away, Liam and Niall nearly collide with each other in the shadows alongside someone's house. Liam is creeping along quietly, back flat against the wall, when Niall appears out of nowhere and skids to a halt right in front of him, breathing heavily.

"Jesus," Liam gasps, startled. "You scared me."

"Sorry," Niall says distractedly. "Listen, they've got Zayn. The jail is two houses down, and Mathers is guarding it, bloody cheat," he whispers in a rush. "I'm gonna lure him away, and you get Zayn, yeah?"

"Oh, uh, sure," Liam nods, somewhat stunned by this barrage of information. He feels suddenly warm all over, which maybe has something to do with the prospect of rescuing Zayn. Possibly.

"Brilliant, come on," Niall says, turning and leading the way around to the front of the house. They move quickly and quietly, staying in the shadows whenever they can and letting the grass soften the sound of their footsteps. Soon enough, the house designated as "jail" comes into view, and Liam and Niall situate themselves behind a car parked in the driveway next door to scope out the situation. The house is small and white, with a dim light illuminating the brick front stoop. Zayn is seated there, hunched forward and glaring in the direction of Mathers, who sure enough is lingering just a few feet away.

"Twat," Niall hisses, peering over the roof of the car. Liam has to bite back a laugh. "Alright, I'll lead him off to the right, and you guys make a break for it."

"You're a good captain, Niall," Liam blurts out.

Maybe now isn't the right time, but Niall's enthusiasm is evident and he deserves to hear that he's done a great job with this whole thing.

Niall turns to him, grinning hugely. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"Alright, now let's do this," Niall says, regaining his focus. "Feel free to continue showering me with praise later, though."

Liam laughs softly.

"Right, okay." He glances over at Zayn, butterflies suddenly erupting in his stomach. Okay, he can do this.

"Ready, set... go!" Niall darts out from behind the car, running into the front lawn. "Oi, Mathers!" he shouts. Mathers's head jerks up, looking around wildly. "No babysitting the jail, you tosser!" Niall takes off into the street, and Mathers, as predicted, sprints after him.

Seizing his chance, Liam dashes to the front step and grabs Zayn, pulling him to his feet. Zayn stares at him for a moment, shocked, before his expression breaks into a wide smile. "Thanks," he breathes.

"No problem," Liam replies, realizing belatedly that he should probably let go of Zayn's wrist. He can't help but notice, though, that Zayn has made no effort to pull away.

The moment is interrupted by an angry shout from somewhere alarmingly close by.

"Jail break!" someone yells, and Liam watches Zayn's eyes widen. "JAIL BREAK!"

Oh, shit.

"Follow me," Zayn murmurs, and Liam obeys without question, tearing after Zayn. He can hear the pounding footsteps of their pursuer not far behind, but he focuses on keeping up with Zayn, following as he darts across the street and into a dark alley between two houses. They emerge in someone's backyard, overgrown and partially enclosed by a high fence that has completely collapsed in a number of places. Liam thinks they're going to slip through an opening in the fence, but instead Zayn veers towards a small, dilapidated shed tucked into a far, shadowy corner of the yard. When they get closer, Liam sees that there's a narrow space between the shed and the fence; Zayn pushes him into it and then slides in after him.

Which is how Liam finds himself pressed nearly chest-to-chest with Zayn Malik, close enough to feel Zayn's breath against his face, just the two of them alone in the dark.

\--

Harry comes across a sweaty and slightly out-of-breath Niall on the front lawn of a small, blue house at the outer edge of their manhunt territory. He's leaning against a large tree, mostly concealed in the darkness, but Harry, who had ducked behind some nearby bushes when he heard footsteps, had seen him coming.

"You alright?" Harry asks quietly, and Niall nods, pushing a swatch of damp, blond air off of his forehead.

"Had Mathers chasing me for a while, but I lost him," Niall explains.

"Well done."

"Got Liam to rescue Zayn from jail, too," Niall says with a mischievous grin.

Harry raises his eyebrows, smiling back. "Sneaky."

"Yeah, well. Figured they needed a nudge in the right direction."

Harry nods in agreement. While Zayn hasn't spoken a word about it - and Harry and Niall know better than to force it out of him - it's fairly obvious that Zayn thinks the sun shines out of Liam's ass. But they don't know each other all that well and Zayn is shy and so, it seems, is Liam, which has put a bit of a damper on the potential of a blossoming romance.

"Well played, mate."

"Thanks, I'm rather pleased with myself."

Harry opens his mouth to respond but shuts it abruptly when he catches sight of two shadowy figures on the street, moving slowly in the blue darkness. He nods his head in their direction and Niall peers over, swearing under his breath. "Split up," he breathes, and Harry nods.

He creeps off in the opposite direction from Niall, moving as stealthily as possible. He has a hiding place in mind not far from here - an old favorite of his, one that he discovered accidentally years ago and has returned to a number of times since then. He's managed to keep it a secret all this time, even from Niall and Zayn, and it's served him well in more than one game of manhunt.

He makes it around to the side of the house without being noticed, hoping that Niall has the same good fortune. He doesn't hear any shouting, which is probably a good sign. Glancing around to make sure no one is nearby, he hurries towards a mundane-looking clump of bushes and drops to his hands and knees, slipping through the opening that becomes visible once he's on the ground. He smiles to himself at the brilliance of the hideout and crawls inside.

A gasp greets him, and he nearly breaks his neck with the speed at which his head snaps up in surprise. As it turns out, he isn't the only one that knows about this spot - Louis Tomlinson is already sitting in the clearing, eyes wide and a shocked expression on his face.

\--

Zayn's chosen hiding place proves to be a very effective one. From their position wedged between the shed and the fence, they watch whoever had been chasing them - it's hard to tell in the darkness - run straight past where they're hidden and continue through a gap in the fence. When the sound of his footsteps has completely faded away, they both breathe a sigh of relief.

"Maybe we should, like, hang out for a bit - make sure he's not coming back?" Zayn whispers, his breath hitting Liam's cheek and sending shivers down his spine.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, good idea," Liam agrees, wondering vaguely if he's dreaming. They're so close, so _fucking_  close, mere inches between them even with Liam's back flattened against the the side of the shed. He still doesn't really know how this happened.

"Thanks for saving me," Zayn says quietly, his voice like honey. Everything around them feels very still, silent save for the faint sounds of leaves being rustled by a light breeze. "Thought I was gonna be stuck there with Mathers all night."

"'Course," Liam replies earnestly, meeting Zayn's eyes and then glancing away quickly to survey their surroundings. "Nice hiding spot, this."

Zayn smiles, bright even in the scattered moonlight that seeps through the overhanging trees. "Yeah, it's a good one. Sorry it's a bit tight."

"I don't mind," Liam says, too quickly.

Zayn laughs softly, and Liam thinks he can probably feel the heat that's now radiating from his face. He scrambles for something else to say - something not mortifying.

"How'd you know about it?"

"My house is just a few houses down, so I know the neighborhood," Zayn explains. "I used to hide here all the time, during games or if I was mad at my parents or my sisters." He chuckles, shaking his head. "I ran away and hid here, once. Got scared when it got dark, though, so I had to go home."

It's Liam's turn to laugh as he imagines a young Zayn defiantly declaring he was running away, only to traipse home dejectedly a few hours later. He pulled the same stunt himself a few times as a kid. "Not scared now, though?"

"Maybe a bit," Zayn says, eyes meeting Liam's, and Liam can literally see the moonlight reflected in them. (He can also imagine the gagging noises Louis would make if Liam were ever to share that observation with him.) "For different reasons, though."

Liam sucks in a breath, willing himself not to read too much into Zayn's words. "Yeah?"

"Mm."

Liam swallows. This whole situation has become entirely too much - Zayn is bombarding his senses, with the inflection in his voice and the sweep of his eyelashes and the faint musk of his cologne mixed with a hint of sweat. He's curious about how Zayn tastes, too, how he would feel beneath Liam's hands, and Liam wonders how deliriously crazy he'd have to be to just lean in and kiss Zayn right now. Pretty crazy, probably. Like, crazier than he's ever been in his life.

But _God_.

Zayn shifts slightly and shit, fuck, was it Liam's turn to say something?

"I slept with a nightlight in my room until I was 14," he blurts out, because apparently he is some kind of idiot.

Jesus, he should walk around with a fucking sign that reads "Liam Payne, moment-killer." (Was there even a moment to kill? Fuck, he needs to get out of here.)

But Zayn is laughing, his thin body quaking slightly and his face split wide with a smile. "Did you really?"

Liam nods, grinning in spite of himself. "Yeah, yes, that's the sad truth."

"Well, hey, no judgment from me," Zayn says, lifting up his hands, palms out, and brushing against Liam's arm in the process. Liam's skin tingles pleasantly in response.

"I appreciate your understanding."

"Don't mention it." His voice is a little lower now, Liam thinks, and when Zayn drops his hands, one comes to rest against the shed wall just beside Liam's head, boxing him in. Liam's breath stutters a bit, he can't help it, because Zayn is just kind of watching him now, his expression serene and slightly curious. There's a fleeting moment when he thinks, madly, that Zayn wants to kiss him, followed by a more extended series of moments when he thinks he must be fucking kidding himself.

A sudden beeping noise to Liam's left makes them both startle, heads whipping around to where Zayn's watch - fastened around the wrist that's just beside Liam's head - has lit up, alerting them that it's midnight. The moment effectively killed, Zayn drops his hand quickly and moves back a bit - not that there's much room to do that in this cramped space of theirs.

"Sorry," he mutters, looking down as he shuts off the alarm. "I, like - I set it so I'd know when the match was over."

"Right," Liam nods, fighting down his disappointment. "Guess this means we won, then?"

In the first half of the match, they had managed to capture 4 of the opposing team's members. The sheer fact that the two of them (and possibly the others) are still safe means that they have emerged victorious from the first round of the tournament.

"Yeah," Zayn says, nodding. "Brilliant, Niall will be chuffed."

Liam grins - he can imagine Niall running around with his arms in the air, crowing over their victory. "Maybe we should, um - get out of here?" he suggests. It's enormously distracting being in such close proximity to Zayn, and he needs some space to get his head on straight again.

"Oh - yeah."

After a bit of awkward maneuvering, they slide out from their hiding spot and into the open yard, a slightly uncomfortable silence hanging between them.

"So, uh, you're heading home, then?" Liam asks.

"Yeah, guess so," Zayn affirms. It's hard to tell for sure through the shadows shrouding his face, but he looks a bit put out.

"I'll walk you," Liam says. Wait, shit. "I mean - walk with you," he stammers, correcting himself. God, he really is an idiot.

Nonetheless, he thinks he sees Zayn's expression lighten a bit. Or maybe it's just the moon.

\--

"Oh!" Harry says, startled. He's on his hands and knees in the entrance to the clearing, mouth slightly open, green eyes wide and uncertain. He clears his throat. "I, uh. Hi."

"Hi," Louis replies, equally taken aback. "Uh, come in?" he adds with a slight laugh.

Harry hesitates, biting his lip as his eyes rove around the small clearing. "You don't mind?"

"'Course not," Louis says, shaking his head and shifting over slightly, patting the ground beside him.

Harry smiles, visibly relaxing, and crawls forward to settle himself next to Louis. There's room for both of them, but with Harry's broad shoulders and long limbs, it's a bit snug. Not that Louis is complaining, really.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone to be in here," Harry explains. He places his hands on the ground behind him and leans back a bit, looking over at Louis.

"Great minds think alike, I guess," Louis says, and Harry grins, all dimple-y. Which is kind of endearing, really. Louis thinks he could get used to being the one that makes Harry grin like that.

But anyway.

"I take it you know this spot, then?" he asks, valiantly steering his thoughts away from the nuances of Harry's facial structure.

"Oh - yeah," Harry nods. "I've been hiding here for years. I didn't know anyone else knew about it... I kind of fancied it my secret spot, like." He pauses. "Not that it's like, _mine_ , or anything," he adds hurriedly, looking vaguely embarrassed. "Obviously. I'm happy to share."

Louis snorts, and Harry bites his lip in response, grinning sheepishly. "Well thanks, mate, I appreciate it," Louis says. He glances around the clearing admiringly. "S'quite a good spot, I'm impressed you know about it. I found it totally on accident."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Tripped and twisted my ankle just now, like a bloody idiot - "

"You twisted your ankle?" Harry interrupts, his brow furrowing in concern as he pulls himself back into an upright position and dusts off his hands. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Louis says in what is supposed to be a dismissive tone, shrugging even as his ankle gives a particularly nasty throb. Harry looks decidedly unconvinced.

"Are you sure?" he persists. He leans forward, shoulders hunching as he examines the ankle that Louis has propped delicately in front of him. "Shit, is this it? It looks really swollen." He reaches out, then catches himself and looks to Louis. "Sorry, do you mind if I -?"

"No, no, go ahead," Louis nods, trying not to swallow too visibly. He doesn't know what the hell is wrong with him - he doesn't normally get this nervous around people. Then again, he hasn't had a lot of experience being this close to beautiful boys with dimple-y cheeks and lovely pink lips.

Harry reaches forward cautiously, and his long fingers slip lightly over the skin of Louis's ankle, tracing the swelling with the utmost care. His touch is so absurdly tender that Louis has to physically bite his lip to stop himself from whimpering.

"It's nothing, really," he manages to say hoarsely.

Harry looks up at him, a frown tugging at his lips and his eyebrows still knit with concern. It's almost comical, actually, how clearly his emotions are written across his face. He's like an open book. "You should really get some ice on it, and elevate it, too."

"I will," Louis promises. "After the match ends, though. Can't sacrifice the win for a silly thing like this."

"Louis - "

(He quite likes the way his name sounds on Harry's lips.)

"Shush, I'll be fine," he insists.

Harry still looks dubious. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help in the meantime?" he asks, and aside from his mum, Louis doesn't think he's ever met someone who's so genuinely concerned with the well-being of others.

Louis considers. "If I asked you to carry me princess-style to the nearest emergency room, would you do it?"

Harry laughs, a short bark of laughter that is far too loud given that they're supposed to be hiding out right now. He brings his hand up to cover his mouth immediately after, shooting a slightly guilty look over at Louis.

"Not very good at this hiding quietly thing, are you?" Louis teases.

"You're the one who made me laugh," Harry says defiantly, lowering his hand.

"True, true," Louis concedes, preening a bit. " _But_ , I'm also the one who will be left helpless and vulnerable if someone from the other team finds us."

"I wouldn't leave you," Harry says immediately, looking almost offended that Louis would suggest such a thing. He shouldn't be allowed to _say_  things like that, Louis thinks to himself - it's entirely unfair.

"How very gallant of you."

Honestly, Louis deserves some kind of prize for being able to retain even a shred of wit in the current circumstances.

"I try," Harry says, grinning toothily. "Really, though, anything?"

"Just, umm - just distract me, or something," Louis says. He heaves a dramatic sigh. "Make me forget about the pain, Harold."

Harry laughs, rolling his eyes. "Fine. How?"

Louis very nearly says "kiss me," but decides that probably isn't 100% appropriate right now. Instead, he says: "Umm, I dunno. Tell me a secret!"

"A secret?"

"Yeah. Hiding spots are the best place for sharing secrets."

Harry nods slowly, unchallenging. "Okay." He tips his head back, gazing up through the branches at the dark, star-scattered sky overhead.

He stays this way for maybe 30 seconds, at which point Louis gets impatient (as he is prone to do) and says: "So..."

Harry throws him a long-suffering look. "I'm _thinking_ ," he says indignantly. Louis huffs but leaves him to it - Harry seems like the type of person who likes to take his time with things. It's evident even in the way he speaks, a low, plodding drawl that's somehow both morbid and mesmerizing at the same time.

A few minutes pass in silence, and Louis spends them carefully _not_  staring at the pale expanse of Harry's throat. Instead, he examines the clearing around them, noting the way the fine branches of the bushes twist and curl around each other, providing thick coverage from prying eyes. He wonders if anyone, even the owners of the property, know about this spot, or if it's just him and Harry. He kind of likes the idea of it being their secret.

"Okay," Harry says eventually. "I think - I think I have one."

Louis perks up, grinning eagerly. He loves secrets. "Alright, go."

"I think - " he pauses, meeting Louis's eyes and then looking down at the ground. There's a twig lying on the dirt beside his left foot, and he picks it up, rolling it between his fingers. He's nervous, Louis realizes. "I think I'm bi. Like, um. Bisexual."

Louis thinks his heart maybe stops beating in his chest for a moment. He wasn't expecting that, not at all, and suddenly this conversation has veered closer to home than he usually cares to get, even when it's just him, alone in the dark with his thoughts.

"Yeah?" he says quietly, just managing to choke out the words.

"Only Zayn and Niall know," Harry says in a rush, his voice a bit rough. He's still staring at the ground. "And my mum and sister."

Louis nods numbly. He can't believe Harry trusts him enough to share that, especially when he's only been comfortable enough to tell a handful of other people. It's really brave of him, Louis thinks. "That's - wow. Thanks for telling me, Harry."

Harry finally turns to look at him, his expression a mix of pleading and hopeful. "You're not like, weirded out, or anything - "

"I'm gay," Louis whispers, cutting him off. The words feel foreign in his mouth, and he realizes it's because he's never said it flat-out like that before. Shit.

Harry's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Does anyone - "

"My mum. And Liam, even though I never like, outright... came out. To him, umm. It's just... a thing."

Harry nods, watching him intently. "Well, thanks for telling me too, then."

"Sure." There's a pause, and then he adds: "I'm not, like, ashamed, or anything. It's just, like. I'm still sort of... getting used to it." He feels like it's really important to make that clear, not just to Harry but to himself as well. It's not like he's not out because he's afraid of what people will think - or, well, maybe that is partly why, but fuck that, fuck what people think. He just wants to process what it all means for him before he starts sharing it with the entire world.

"Yeah," Harry breathes, still watching him. "Yeah, I get it."

And the thing is, Louis knows he actually _does_  get it, gets it better than pretty much anyone, and somehow, that means everything. He doesn't even know Harry that well, really, they've sort of been on the periphery of each other's lives for years, but something about him makes Louis feel profoundly at ease.

"I don't really have any secrets bigger than that," Harry says quietly. A hoarse quality has crept into his voice, and given the serious nature of this conversation, Louis probably shouldn't find as enticing as he does.

"S'alright," Louis assures him. "That was - I mean, that was a pretty good one."

He feels like something has shifted between them now, like a wall has come down, shattering all pretense. In the space of 15 minutes, they've entrusted each other with a piece of themselves that very few other people are privy to. It doesn't make Louis feel vulnerable, though - it makes him feel safe.

"Did it distract you?" Harry asks, glancing at Louis's ankle. "Take your mind off the pain, and all that?" His lips twitch ever-so-slightly.

Louis smiles. "Yeah. Yeah, you're a good distraction." And well, shit, that came out sounding a bit more intense and creepy than Louis would have liked.

"Am I?" Harry's voice is still a little too low, his lovely green eyes trained a little too closely on Louis's face. Everything else around him seems to blur, fading to a haze of dark blue shadows, nothing more than a backdrop.

Louis swallows, actually swallows, and seriously, what is his problem right now? "Yeah," he breathes.

Harry bites his lip, his face still so, so close, and fuck, but Louis wants to kiss him right now. And maybe he could, too, with the way Harry's looking at him, it would be so easy to just lean over -

"MIDNIGHT! MATCH IS OVER, WE WIN!" comes Niall's triumphant voice from somewhere not too far off. The proclamation is followed shortly thereafter by a loud woop, and the rest of the world slides back into focus as Harry chuckles and rolls his eyes, shaking his head fondly. Louis, meanwhile, tries not to seem overly disgruntled by the interruption.

"Guess that's it, then," Harry says, bumping his shoulder lightly against Louis's. "How're we doing?" He nods in the direction of Louis's injured ankle.

"Been better," Louis admits, grimacing slightly.

Harry frowns. "Alright, come on then, we need to get some ice on that. I'll take you to Zayn's; I'm spending the night at his anyway."

"You really don't have to - " Louis protests.

"Shut _up_ ," Harry groans.

"That was rude," Louis say, mock-offended.

Harry shrugs, unimpressed. "Yeah, well. I am no-nonsense when it comes to injuries."

"Clearly."

"Go on, then," Harry says impatiently, nodding towards the entrance to the clearing, and it seems he's gone into full-on mother hen mode. There will be no reasoning with him now. "Ice!"

"Alright, alright," Louis grumbles, trying not to wince too noticeably when he shifts to his hands and knees and crawls out of the clearing. He feels a strange twinge of sadness as he emerges onto the shadowy lawn; something about the hiding spot had felt so safe, so intimate. Like it was just the two of them inhabiting their own little bubble, shielded from the outside world. It almost reminds him of how he'd felt as a little boy, tucked snugly into his bed as his mum smoothed his hair back from his forehead - that feeling that nothing bad could touch him.

Harry appears behind him moments later, brushing stray twigs out of his hair and scrambling to his feet. He slides a protective arm around Louis just in time to save him from toppling unceremoniously to the ground.

"For God's sake, Louis, be careful," Harry chides, tightening his grip on Louis's waist. (Louis feels a bit light-headed all of a sudden, which he's sure is completely due to the pain from his ankle.) "You're going to hurt yourself even more than you already have."

"Relax, Harold, I'll be fine," Louis grumbles, but that doesn't stop him from leaning a bit more closely into Harry, hooking an arm over his lovely broad shoulders. For safety reasons, of course. "How far to Zayn's?"

"About a block," Harry says, nodding in what is presumably the direction of Zayn's house. "Think you can make it?"

Louis grits his teeth and nods. "'Course."

\--

It doesn't take them long to get to Zayn's house - five minutes, if that, since he's on the same block. It's nice, though, walking just the two of them, side by side through the sleepy peace of the neighborhood. The night air is warm and smooth against their skin, and they talk comfortably, hearts back to a normal rate now that there are more than three inches separating their bodies.

They reach Zayn's house far sooner than either of them would have liked, right as Liam's laughing at something clever Zayn's just said about one of the guys on the opposing team. Zayn seriously entertains the option of walking right past his own house, just so he can spend some more time watching the way Liam's eyes squint and crinkle when he laughs, but his better judgment advises him against it.

"So, this is me," he says reluctantly, coming to a halt at his front gate and turning to look at Liam.

"Oh - okay," Liam says, and Zayn's heart lifts a little when he thinks he sees his own disappointment mirrored on Liam's face.

"Thanks for walking with me. And for saving me, earlier. Thought I was gonna be stuck with that prat Mathers all night."

Liam smiles shyly, looking down at his feet and then back up at Zayn. "Yeah, that would have been no good."

There's silence, then, and Liam is watching him with an almost hopeful expression on his face. Zayn thinks back to that moment by the shed, right before his watch went off, when he could feel his own heart thumping in his ears because he had been so close to leaning forward and pressing his lips to Liam's. He wonders if now is another one of those moments, if he should just grow a pair and kiss Liam right here, right now. But he's terrified, frankly, and beyond that, he doesn't even know if Liam thinks of him that way, doesn't even know if Liam thinks of boys that way, and God, that would be awkward.

Zayn clears his throat. "Right. Well then, I better head in."

Liam's eyes widen slightly, and does he look hurt, or is that just Zayn's imagination? He has no fucking clue, honestly, he just knows that Liam makes his head confused and he needs to get away so that he can berate himself for being a cowardly sack of shit in peace, thanks.

"Sure, yeah," Liam says quietly. "Good night, Zayn."

"Good night."

Liam walks backwards a few steps, street lamps casting an orange glow on his face, then gives a small smile before turning and continuing down the street. Zayn fumbles his way through the gate and up his front path, sinking back against his front door as soon as it closes behind him. He's not sure whether to feel relieved or excited or disappointed - he feels everything at once and it's all because of Liam Payne. He's pretty sure there was something between them tonight but he's also pretty sure he could have made the entire thing up, and honestly, what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

Sighing, he pulls himself up from the door and makes his way upstairs and down the hall to his bedroom. He opens the door to find a shirtless Niall already sprawled across his bed, scrolling idly through his phone.

"Glad to see you've made yourself at home," Zayn deadpans, raising his eyebrows as Niall grins and lifts his chin in greeting.

"If you're glad, I'm glad, Zayn," Niall replies easily, glancing over Zayn's shoulder like he's looking for someone. "Where's Liam?"

"Whad'you mean?" Zayn says, startled. "He went home."

"Oh." Niall looks disappointed, which makes Zayn suspicious.

"Why?"

Niall shrugs. "Dunno. Just... thought you two might be together."

_"Why?"_ Zayn asks again, eyes narrowing.

Niall blinks at him, his expression skeptical and maybe even a little pitying. "Come on, Malik - you're not as subtle as you think you are, mate."

Zayn sighs, pushing at Niall's feet so that he can drop down on the bed beside him. He rubs a hand tiredly over his face. "Bloody hell. Is it that bad?"

"A bit," Niall concedes, petting his thigh sympathetically. "No worse than him, though."

The hope in Zayn's chest balloons a bit at that, then deflates rapidly when he remembers how completely and utterly he had dropped the ball just a few minutes ago.

"We were together all night," he says quietly, staring at his hands. "He walked me home." He smiles a little, remembering how Liam had fumbled over his words back by the shed.

Niall perks up a bit. "And?"

"And that's it," Zayn says resignedly. "He walked with me and then I came inside. And now here I am."

"Shoulda kissed him," Niall says, shaking his head. "Or invited him in, or something!"

Zayn shoots him a sideways glare. "Not helping."

"Sorry, sorry. C'mere." Niall shifts closer, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on Zayn's shoulder. "Don't be sad, Zayn. There'll be other nights; we are manhunt teammates, after all. _Winning_  manhunt teammates."

Zayn manages a small smile in response, tucking his cheek against Niall's forearm. "S'all thanks to our brilliant captain."

"Victory will be ours," Niall proclaims grandly. "Now cheer up and go get us some snacks or something, I'm starved after all that running."

Zayn rolls his eyes but does as he's asked, extracting himself from Niall's embrace and standing up. As he heads down to the kitchen, he thinks about what Niall had said - there _will_  be other nights to see Liam, that's certainly true. It's not like he'll never have another chance to speak to him again, or even to hang out with him alone. But something about tonight had felt special, like an opportunity too good to be missed - he could practically taste the potential, the _promise_ , hovering just out of reach in the warm summer darkness. Or maybe it was just within his reach, if only he'd been brave enough to grab it.

\--

"Harry, _honestly_ , I'm _fine_ ," Louis says for probably the hundredth time.

They've been standing out on Zayn's front stoop for at least three full minutes, delayed in their entry because Harry refuses to release his grip on Louis's waist in order to open the door. Not that Louis minds terribly, but really, Harry is being ridiculous.

"Okay, alright," Harry says reluctantly, a pout (or something dangerously close to it) tugging at his lips. "Just, like, lean against the side of the house, it'll just take a sec - "

"I think I can handle balancing on one foot for a few seconds," Louis interjects, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're worse than my mum, it's unbelievable." He's aiming for annoyed, but his tone is perhaps a bit closer to fond than he had intended.

Harry makes a face at him, but once he gets the door open his arm is back around Louis in a flash, helping him hop inside. Louis would complain some more, because _honestly_ , he's not a _child_ , but... Well, it's kind of nice that Harry's worried about him. And, you know, maybe he likes the feeling of Harry's long, lean body pressed along his. Because, like - Louis is attracted to guys. And that's okay. It's more than okay, actually, because Harry is attracted to guys too - Harry, who's ridiculous and charming and beautiful and sincere, and whose arm is currently wrapped so snuggly around Louis that he can feel the muscles in his arm shift and flex. It's strange, since they really barely know each other, but somehow being near to him feels like the most natural thing in the world for Louis.

The hallway is dark, and the fact that they make it through without Louis sustaining any additional injuries is an indication of how familiar Harry must be with Zayn's house. They come to a halt at what Louis assumes is the end of the hall, and after Harry easily locates a light switch somewhere on the wall to their left, Louis sees that they have reached the kitchen. It's small but cozy, with warm mahogany cabinets and colorful magnets pinning an assortment of family photos to the fridge. A counter extending out from the wall splits the room into kitchen and family room; on the far side Louis sees a dark blue couch set across from a TV.

"Alright, come on, I'll get you some ice," Harry says quietly.

Louis nods and hobbles over to the counter, leaping up and situating himself on top of it as Harry bustles around the kitchen preparing a homemade ice pack (ice cubes stuffed in a plastic bag and wrapper in paper towel). When he turns around and sees Louis seated on the counter, he raises his eyebrows.

"There are chairs, you know," he says, perplexed.

Louis shrugs in response. "Prefer it up here."

"Why, is it 'cause you feel short next to me?" Harry asks innocently.

Louis's jaw drops in mock horror. "You're not _that_  much taller," he says indignantly.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," Harry teases, approaching Louis with ice pack in hand. "Come on, ankle up on the counter."

For some reason - probably because Harry is very beautiful and very close to Louis - Louis bites back a retort and instead obeys Harry's instructions, swinging his injured leg up to rest on the counter beside him (he's sure Zayn's mum would be thrilled about that). Gently, Harry places the ice over Louis's ankle, his brow furrowed in concentration. When Louis winces slightly at the contact, Harry pulls back sharply, his expression instantly apologetic.

"Sorry! Sorry, did I hurt you?" he frets, eyes wide.

"Nah, s'just hurting on its own," Louis assures him. "Don't worry, you've done an ace job taking care of me, really."

Harry seems to relax a little, and he gives his head a small shake, smiling shyly. "S'nothing."

"I mean you didn't necessarily have to treat me like an invalid," Louis teases gently, nudging Harry's leg with his good foot. Harry opens his mouth to respond, but Louis cuts him off. "But honestly, I really appreciate it."

Harry closes his mouth, looking somewhat mollified. "'Course," he says sincerely, like it's the most obvious thing in the world that he would dedicate his entire evening to tending to Louis and his ankle. He pauses for a moment, eyes on Louis's face, and Louis can see him considering what he's about to say. "I'm really glad we got to, like, talk. And stuff."

Louis smiles at him, pointedly ignoring the fluttering sensation in his stomach. "Me too," he says softly. He swings his dangling foot out and it accidentally-on-purpose catches around the back of Harry's calf, a plea to come closer that's all the louder for its silence. Harry shifts forward, one hand coming to rest on the counter beside Louis's hip, and Louis can hear his own heart thumping in his ears. He tilts his head, gaze skipping from Harry's eyes, green and curious, to the dimple in his cheek to the pink curve of his lips.

This is the moment, he thinks, steeling himself to lean in.

Somewhere over Harry's shoulder, someone clears their throat, and Harry jerks back, whirling around. Louis follows his gaze and sees Zayn standing in the entrance to the kitchen, his startled expression rapidly shifting into one of spectacular discomfort.

"I - uh, sorry," he stammers, eyes flying from Harry to Louis to the not-quite-platonic distance between them. "I didn't realize - I mean, it is my kitchen, but, umm... sorry. I'm going." He backs away, pauses, then pokes his head back into the room, now looking vaguely amused: "Tomlinson, get your foot off my mum's counter."

"Sorry!" Louis chirps, hurriedly bringing his leg down to dangle alongside the other one, but Zayn is already gone, faded into the shadows of the hallway. Louis's gaze returns to Harry, who looks a bit embarrassed. "Oops," he says. Harry tries to contain a laugh and fails, his dimples deepending adorably.

"That keeps happening," Louis complains, and Harry cocks his head, confused.

"What?"

"People keep interrupting when I'm trying to kiss you." And that's a very, very bold thing to say, but fuck it, you only live once, right? Might as well just go for it. He can always blame it on the pain going to his head, if it comes to that.

Harry's breath hitches a bit, and his eyes widen, darting down to Louis's lips. "You want to kiss me?"

"I do," Louis says, and it's laughable, really, that Harry seems to find this news surprising. On the bright side, Harry hasn't screamed and run out of the room at the prospect of kissing Louis, so that's something.

"Then kiss me," Harry murmurs, his voice low.

Louis nods a little, his heart racing, and Harry's watching him closely, maybe a little cautiously, like he's waiting for a final cue from Louis. Louis reaches up, hand curling in the wide collar of Harry's t-shirt, knuckles grazing against warm, smooth skin. He gives a light tug and Harry comes willingly, closer and closer until Louis's eyes fall shut and their lips meet. It's soft, sweet, a little tentative - not fireworks or any of that nonsense, but it feels natural, easy, like something they were meant to have been doing all along.

When they take a breath, Harry pulls back a little, biting his lip on a grin, and Louis really has no choice but to lean in and kiss him again. He feels Harry's smile widen against his own, feels the way his lips part and his kisses grow a little firmer, a little more confident. He feels Harry's handle settle on his hip, and it's amazing, how a simple touch like that makes his whole body want more. He wants to spend his whole summer doing this.

It's funny, because this isn't at all where he expected to find himself on the first night of summer - sitting on Zayn Malik's kitchen counter at half past midnight, nursing a busted up ankle and kissing Harry Styles. He's not about to start complaining, though, so he slips two fingers through one of Harry's belt loops and kisses him harder.

\--

Out in the hall, Zayn backs away from the rectangle of light spilling through the entrance to the kitchen, mind racing. He's still a bit stunned by what he just witnessed, hadn't been expecting it at all - he's happy for Harry though, that much he knows. Harry's had a bit of a crush on Louis for a while now and from the looks of it, things had been about to heat up between them - which, right, Zayn's actually going to be having a word with Harry about getting heated with people in his kitchen. But he is happy for him. Truly.

He's also increasingly frustrated with himself, because he'd had the same opportunity with Liam and he'd let it slip right through his fingers. He hadn't been sure how Liam would react, true, but can you ever be sure, really? He thinks about what Niall had said, about Zayn not being the only one, and he thinks about Harry and how he must have taken some kind of risk to get to where he currently is with Louis. And then he's wrenching open his front door and stumbling down the front steps, dashing off in the direction that Liam had gone. Maybe this is a terrible idea, or maybe it's the best idea he's ever had. He has no clue, honestly, but he knows this: he'd rather start off his summer by taking a chance than lying in bed wondering about what could have been.

The houses he runs by are dark and quiet, and his footsteps echo through the street, a dull thud-thud-thud against the sidewalk. He's only a few blocks away from his house when he spots Liam, a dark figure moving through patches of light cast by streetlamps, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. He must have dawdled a bit on his walk home if he's still this close by. Zayn very nearly turns around and runs back in the direction from which he came, but the adrenaline thumping through his veins overpowers the knots in his stomach, and somehow, he keeps moving forward.

"Liam!" he calls out once they're only half a block apart, his voice shattering the starlit silence. It takes him a few tries to actually get the name out, what with the way it's sticking in his throat. "Liam, hey!"

  
Liam jumps a little and turns around, eyes widening when he sees Zayn. "Hey," he says cautiously, taking a few steps forward as Zayn approaches him. They come to a halt at the edge of someone's driveway, the cracked pavement sloping gently beneath their feet. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah... yeah, fine," Zayn says, his breathing still a little ragged from running. "I just, umm."

Liam watches him patiently, mild concern etched in the lines of his forehead. It makes Zayn's stomach do somersaults just to be this close to him again, and God, he really needs to do something about this situation. He takes a step forward, closing the remaining distance between them so that the tips of their trainers are practically touching. Placing both hands on Liam's waist, he doesn't stop, he doesn't think - he just rocks forward and kisses him full on the mouth.

Liam makes a small noise of surprise but stays put, which has to be a good sign, Zayn thinks. His lips are soft and dry against Zayn's, all warm, gentle pressure. With a start that turns the somersaults in his stomach into full-on acrobatics, he realizes that Liam is actually kissing him back.

It doesn't last very long, in the end - just one kiss followed by a tender little peck that's somehow almost better than the kiss itself - but when they break apart Liam is failing spectacularly at biting back a smile and Zayn feels like he's on top of the world. The night around them is shadowy stillness, but in their little corner of the Earth, toe-to-toe beneath a canopy of stars, the air buzzes with the promise of something new, something bright and brilliant.

"I wanted to do that all night," Zayn admits in a murmur, forcing himself to meet Liam's eyes, and Liam appears to give up on trying to suppress a smile and instead just beams at him.

"Me too," he replies, his eyes doing that lovely crinkling thing again.

"Right," Zayn says, clearing his throat. He's not entirely sure what to do now, but he's certain that coming after Liam was right. The night feels complete now, and they can go their separate ways as they should have done in front of Zayn's house, freed from lingering questions and regrets.

"So - I'll see you tomorrow, then?" Liam says, a trace of hesitation in his voice.

"Yeah," Zayn agrees, nodding firmly. "Yeah, definitely."

Liam smiles. "Okay."

"Okay," Zayn repeats. "Good night, Liam."

"Good night, Zayn."

Zayn smiles the entire walk back to his house, his whole body humming with elation as he thinks back on what had happened. He doesn't even bother checking his kitchen for Harry and Louis when gets home - they could be ripping each other's clothes off against his refrigerator for all he cares right now. Instead, he climbs the stairs up to his room quietly and flops down on his bed next to Niall, who is fast asleep with his mouth hanging open. Zayn briefly entertains the idea of waking him up to recount his encounter with Liam, but decides against it; he wants a few hours just to keep this for himself.

As expected, it takes Zayn a while to fall asleep that night; he stares out his window for a long time, taking in the deep blue of the night sky. A light breeze occasionally slips through the open window, rustling the curtains, and beside him, Niall snores gently, the sound more comforting than bothersome. It's peaceful, the perfect setting for an easy night's sleep, but his mind is at work, too busy to rest just yet. Fortunately, tonight, it's not thoughts of what might have been, but rather what might be, that keep him up until the wee hours of the morning.

\--

Zayn awakes the next morning to sunlight spilling through his bedroom window, painting the walls of his room in a whitish yellow. He gives a low groan and rolls over, pushing Niall's arm off of his chest (he's a restless sleeper, Zayn has come to know) and pulling a pillow over his head. The sun can keep right on shining, but he's not going anywhere, no sir. It is now officially summer and he can stay in bed all day if it pleases him. Which it would, actually, it would please him very much if it weren't for the grumbling noise that just came from his stomach. He never did get around to getting those snacks from the kitchen last night, after all. He's very, _very_  okay with the reason for that, though.

With a sigh, he pushes the pillow aside and sits up, blinking sleepily in the sunlight. The clock on his bedside table reads 10:18 - pretty early for summer hols, especially for him. He's up now, though, and his stomach has just given another growl, so he tugs on a t-shirt and sets off in search of food, leaving Niall to his slumber.

The kitchen is on the other side of the house, and the morning light is softer here, a pale glow that seeps through the windows. Evidently it isn't yet bright enough to wake Harry and Louis, who, Zayn is not entirely surprised to see, are fast asleep on his couch. Louis's ankle is propped up on the coffee table with a pillow beneath it, and Zayn guesses he must have sprained it or something during last night's match - Niall won't be too pleased about that. His other leg is somehow tangled with Harry's, and they're slumped slightly to the side, Harry's head resting against Louis's shoulder. They look peaceful and, frankly, kind of adorable, what with the way their bodies seem to fit so easily together. It sounds foolish to say so, but watching the two of them, Zayn feels like he's witnessing the start of something big, something that's going to change the way things are from now on. It's not an ominous feeling though, but rather reassuring, even hopeful - the dawn of something new and promising.

A knock at the front door startles Zayn out of his thoughts, and he frowns to himself, wondering if his mum and sisters have returned from their trip out of town sooner than expected. He hopes not - his mum isn't overwhelmingly strict, but even she won't be pleased to learn that he's had a bunch of friends sleep over without her being there. He backs out of the kitchen and creeps down the hallway, stopping at the front door to peer cautiously out of the small window beside it. Through the glass, he sees a tanned arm, the sleeve of a gray t-shirt, and oh, fuck, it's not his mum home early - it's Liam.

_Liam_.

Liam, who Zayn kissed last night, is at this moment standing on Zayn's doorstep, and Zayn is going to have to like, speak actual coherent sentences to him. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

With a shaking hand, Zayn opens the door, and a breath of warm summer air wafts in. It's gorgeous outside, the sky a clear blue, birds chirping merrily from the tree in his front yard. And Liam is there, right on his doorstep, looking utterly fit in his tshirt and shorts - which, right, _fuck_ , Zayn is still dressed in only his boxers and a ratty old tshirt. Bloody _hell_ , this is a disaster.

"Umm, hi," Liam says, smiling nervously.

"Hi," Zayn replies, then proceeds to blink stupidly at Liam because he can't think of anything else to say. Brilliant, really brilliant.

After a few too many seconds of awkward silence, during which Liam shifts awkwardly on the front step, the birds continue to chirp, and Zayn boggles at his own idiocy, Liam says: "Sorry to just, uh, show up, umm - I was wondering. Erm. Is Louis here, by any chance?"

"You could have just called," Zayn says, and wow, he finally regains the capability of speech and this is what comes out his mouth? He wants to bash his skull against the doorframe. Repeatedly.

Liam's eyes widen and he blushes furiously, taking a small step back. "I - you're right, sorry - "

"Mgladjudint," Zayn says in a rush.

Now Liam just looks confused (and really, who can blame him - Zayn's not entirely sure the sentence that just came out of his mouth was English). "Sorry, what?" he asks politely.

Zayn takes a deep breath. "I'm glad you didn't," he repeats, slowly this time, and his face feels suddenly warm. Probably the heat. "Call, I mean. I'm glad you're here."

"Oh." Liam looks a little taken aback by this revelation, but pleasantly so. He smiles cautiously, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. "Thanks."

They're just sort of standing there smiling at each other when Zayn feels a warmth against his back and a familiar voice in his left ear. "Hiya, Liam. What's in the bag?"

Evidently Niall has awoken, and he's also noticed something that Zayn had been too distracted to pick up on until just now - Liam is clutching a rather large brown paper bag in his right hand.

Startled, Liam looks from Zayn to Niall and then down at the bag, seeming almost surprised to find that he's holding it. "Oh, it's - I brought muffins," he explains, his expression suddenly sheepish.

"Brilliant, come in," Niall says cheerily, giving Zayn a pat on the shoulder and moving away from the door. "I'm half starved, Zayn's done a rubbish job of feeding me."

Liam opens his mouth as if to respond but seems at a loss for words, instead just blinking bemusedly in Niall's direction. Zayn rolls his eyes, laughing even as he shakes his head. "He thinks he lives here."

"I do live here!" Niall calls over his shoulder, already making his way down the hall to the kitchen.

"Come on, come in," Zayn says, stepping back and gesturing for Liam to come inside. "Louis's back in the kitchen, and I could definitely go for one of those muffins."

Liam smiles, stepping inside and looking around curiously as Zayn shuts the door behind him and leads the way to the kitchen. Maybe this will be the first of many times Liam visits his house, Zayn thinks, hopes. He doesn't want to get ahead of himself, given how new and fragile this thing between them is, but, well - it's a nice thought.

They arrive in the kitchen just in time to see Niall jump up on the couch next to Harry and Louis and shout: "Oi, lovebirds! Rise and shine!" For added effect, he grabs a pillow and flings it at them, then proceeds to bounce up and down on the couch.

"Niaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall. Not fair," Harry groans, burrowing further into Louis's shoulder and refusing to open his eyes. It's a (rather regrettable) testament to how many times Niall has woken him like this that he'd barely even startled at the attack. Louis, on the other hand, is shooting Niall a glare that suggests he wishes dire misfortune on him and his unborn children. His expression softens slightly, however, when Harry snuggles closer to him, curls brushing against his chin. He looks down at him almost tenderly, a cautious thumb brushing over his forearm.

"Up, up, Liam's brought us muffins and we've got to talk strategy, lads!" Niall cries, taking a final bounce before leaping off the couch.

At the mention of Liam's name, Louis glances up from Harry in surprise, eyes landing on Liam. "Hey, Li," he says, a morning rasp to his voice. "What are you doing here?"

Liam's eyes flick over to Zayn before settling back on Louis, and Louis raises an eyebrow at him, lips twitching. Liam shoots a pointed look at Harry by way of silent retort, but Louis just blinks back at him, as if to say "I have no idea what you're talking about." Except for that he very, very much does.

"Looking for you, actually," Liam explains, brandishing the brown paper bag that's still in his hand. "And providing muffins for our team breakfast, of course."

"That's the spirit!" Niall says, clapping Liam on the shoulder. "And Harry'll make us eggs, won't you, Haz?"

Harry extracts himself enough from Louis to nod, his frustration with Niall for waking them up already forgotten. "Sure." Sitting up straight, he stretches, then shakes his hair out before pushing it haphazardly off of his face. From across the kitchen counter, Zayn watches Louis track the motion with his eyes, a softness in his expression that Zayn isn't accustomed to seeing. Once again, Zayn is struck by the feeling that he's witnessing the start of something big, and watching the interaction seems almost like intruding on their privacy. Dragging his gaze away, he refocuses on Liam, who has spread several rectangles of paper towel over the counter and is now neatly arranging the assorted muffins on top of them. Biting his lip to stop from smiling too broadly, Zayn wonders if perhaps Harry and Louis aren't the only ones teetering on the precipice of a new era.

"What would you say if I asked you to make me egg on toast?" Louis asks, his voice soft in Harry's ear. They're still practically on top of each other, thighs pressed together and elbows knocking, and Louis isn't ready to break out of their little bubble just yet.

Harry turns to look at him, eyes still hazy with sleep, mouth pink and full against the fairness of his skin. He looks loose, tousled, completely unguarded, and Louis wants to kiss him again - wants to kiss him every day for the rest of the summer, and maybe for a while after that too. Which is kind of terrifying and brilliant at the same time, now that he thinks about it.

Harry studies his face with a mock-serious expression, pretending to consider Louis's request. "I'd say yes," he answers finally, a smile creeping slowly across his face.

"I knew I liked you," Louis says.

Harry's smile deepens, then quickly slips into a frown when he glances down and catches sight of Louis's ankle, still propped up on the coffee table in front of them.

"Oh, shoot, I totally forgot, Lou - how's your ankle?" he asks worriedly, crouching forward to examine the swelling. It's definitely gone down since last night, but Louis has to admit that it still feels sore.

He's barely even opened his mouth to respond when Niall interrupts. "Are you hurt?" he yelps, aghast, abandoning the plates he'd been pulling out of Zayn's cabinets and hurrying to Louis's side.

"Umm, a bit," Louis says apologetically, and he hears Liam make a concerned noise. "Think I sprained my ankle. Sorry, mate."

After his initial outburst, Niall takes the news stoically. "Alright," he says with a sharp nod, standing up straight. "Right, it's going to be fine. We'll just work our strategy around that from now on, no problem." He looks down at Louis. "I'm sorry you're hurt, Lou."

Louis shrugs. "I'll live. Harry here's been taking good care of me."

"I'll bet," Niall snorts, gaze lingering on how close together the two of them are still sitting.

"Shut up, Niall," Harry pouts, his tone completely lacking any malice. Louis chances a sideways glance at him and finds Harry looking back, his cheeks flushed and a shy smile tugging at his lips.

"I guess I'll need to keep you around this summer," Louis says. "At least while my ankle heals, you know. The road to recovery can be rough, I've heard."

Harry nods solemnly. "I'll be right by your side during this difficult journey," he vows, clasping Louis's hand melodramatically.

Niall makes a gagging noise and walks back to the kitchen counter, where Liam is pointing out the different types of muffins to Zayn, their arms brushing together. Jesus, Niall's entire bloody team is falling in love with each other. Which is possibly what he had had in mind when he asked Louis and Liam to be on their manhunt team. But, you know, details.

"Alright, is this a team meeting or a double date?" he says loudly, causing all four of them to blush and glare at him. But hey, now he has their attention. "Thank you. Now, look. We got off to a good start with the win last night, but now we've got an injured man and more tough matches ahead of us. Eternal glory can still be ours, lads, but we've got to be prepared. So, let's eat and get down to business."

"Aye-aye, captain," Louis says, and the others nod.

Harry gets up to begin making the eggs, and Niall enlists Zayn's help in sketching a map of the neighborhood, Louis and Liam looking on. Twenty minutes later, the five of them are gathered around the coffee table with full plates, pointing out different places on the map and devising a plan for the match tonight. The dynamic between them is easy and comfortable, their personalities complementing each other, and Niall is starting to feel like a veritable genius for putting this team together. They've got good friends, good food, and the prospect of eternal glory ahead of them.

It's going to be a good summer.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I love hearing feedback so if you feel like it, please let me know what you think :). Also, come check me out on Tumblr some time... streetlightserenades.tumblr.com


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